Happy Birthday, Gidget
by MiSaFanatic
Summary: Franky tries to surprise Bridget on her birthday but it does not to exactly to plan. Just a little thought I had in my head, fluff.


Bridget Westfall lay in her lover's arms, the pair's limbs intertwined and a little sweaty, a post lovemaking haze descended upon them. Franky pulled the blonde woman a little closer to her, closing in any space that existed before. 8 months with this woman, and she loved her more and more each day, so much it almost hurt. She smiled to herself and left a small kiss on Bridget's bare shoulder, her lips lingering for a second.

"43 years old tomorrow," Bridget began. "When did I blink and get so old?!"

Franky chuckled lightly. "And 43 never looked so good before! You are not old, you are beautiful, intellegent, damn good with your tongue..."

"And old!"

"Oh Gidge, there's no pleasing you is there!" Franky pouted, mimicking her partner.

"Hey!" Bridget pretended to swat Franky away from her; Franky just grabbed onto her tighter, giggling and planting kisses all over her face. Bridget stopped wriggling away and sighed contently.

"How did I get so lucky, eh? I wish I had found you sooner." She kissed Franky's lips, humming softly as she did.

"I fucking love you, you incredible woman," Franky replied. "Let's get some sleep, 43 in the morning!" Bridget poked her side in protest before turning over and pulling Franky's arm over her body. It wasn't long before she fell into a deep slumber, and Franky carefully unwrapped herself from her sleeping lover and climbed out the bed, ready to get started in the kitchen. She had planned to make a cake for Bridget, ready for the morning when she woke up. Bridget was never particularly fond of her birthday, always saying it was just another day, but this was her first one with Franky, and she wanted to do something special for her. Along with the small gold watch Franky had chosen to give to her, she planned to bake a large cake, adorned with fresh cream and all of Gidge's favourite fruit.

Satisfied Bridget was fast asleep, she threw on an old oversized tee shirt and tip-toed out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her, and into the kitchen. Bridget was not a keen cook, so it was not hard hiding the vast array of fruit at the back of the fridge - fresh strawberries, blackberries, kiwi and raspberries - and the tubs of double cream ready to be whipped. A smile crept onto Franky's face as she thought about what she was doing; standing in a kitchen at 11.47pm, about the bake the mother of all cakes for a woman she would die for - how her life had changed since her release from Wentworth! A shadow of her former self, she only knew how to be selfish and guarded, two personality traits which helped her survive her childhood and her time behind bars. But Bridget had taught her that the world was not out to get her, and slowly, slowly, she began to trust, and even let herself feel love, an emotion which she blocked out of her life previously. It had taken her 32 years, but she had got there in the end.

Franky measured out the ingredients for the cake itself and whisked it together, dipping her finger into the mixture to taste.

"Mmmm," she hummed, satisfied with the taste. "Damn i'm good!"

She took another generous taste and poured the lot into 2 round cake tins, and placed them in the oven. Next, she whisked the double cream until it was stiff and spreadable, and chopped up the fruit, again, sampling the taste. Delicious. Knowing the cake would take at least 40 minutes, she padded into the living room and switched on the TV quietly, curling up on the sofa to the late-night news...

Bridget was woken from her sleep by a high pitched beeping sound. She had been dreaming about being on the beach with her late mother when she was woken by the noise. Very qucikly the smell of smoke invaded her senses and she darted out of bed.

"Franky!" She said, alarmed, but her side of the bed was emply. Grabbing her robe, she quickly paced downstairs, where the kitchen was filled with smoke, slowly exiting the room thanks to the kitchen door that had been opened. She saw Franky swearing into the oven.

"What the hell happened?" Bridget asked, a little less alarmed now that there was no actual fire in their home.

"For fuck sake!" Franky growled. She pulled 2 charred cakes out of the oven and tossed them onto the counter top, huffing. Instead of the golden brown colour they were meant to resemble, the tops of the cakes were black. Franky had fallen asleep while watching the television, and the cakes were in the over for a little over 2 hours.

"Baby, can I ask why you are baking at 2am?" Bridget tried to stifle a laugh but it came out. She didn't mean to, it was just such a picture to her!

"It's not funny!" Franky exclaimed. "I was making you a birthday cake!"

"Oh baby," Bridget stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Franky. "I'm sorry." She kissed Franky's jaw tenderly. "You mean to say you've been up all this time baking me a cake? You didn't need to do that for me darling."

"I wanted to make you something from me, that you've never had before. But I must have fallen asleep and woke up to the fucking smoke alarm. Agh! It's all ruined!"

Bridget pulled her a little closer. "Anything you do is amazing, baby, and cake or no cake, I know my birthday will be the best i've ever had, and that's because I get to wake up next to you." She kissed Franky and smiled, holding her face in her hands. "I love you."

"I love you too," Franky said, relaxing her body slightly and leaning in more to her woman. "Happy birthday, Gidget."


End file.
